


What’s Love Got To Do With It?

by arobynsung



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/F, One of My Favorites, magical theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arobynsung/pseuds/arobynsung
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unspeakable Granger & Unspeakable Bulstrode are paired by their obviously insane superiors on a project attempting to do the impossible, defeat the Killing Curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What’s Love Got To Do With It?

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by [](http://ronloveshermy.livejournal.com/profile)[**ronloveshermy**](http://ronloveshermy.livejournal.com/), but I take responsibility for all my mistakes.
> 
> _Set Post-War/Post-Hogwarts and pays no attention to that silly little thing called an epilogue._

“So how’s the super special secret assignment going?”

Hermione glared at her so-called best friend, “Try not to sound so bitter Ron. I already explained why I can’t talk about it, besides I’m Unspeakable.”

“Yes, but I’m your best friend, not to mention Deputy Head Auror.”

“Keep talking, see how long the friendship lasts, and you’re one of many deputies, I don’t see how it qualifies you to the Department of Mysteries. Harry’s a deputy too, he’s not being annoying about this,” she argued pointing to the man quietly snickering at their bickering, “not to mention he’s also my best friend.”

She did her best not to roll her eyes at Ron’s pout, she really did.

Then again, not even she could be perfect.

Harry seemed to finally get over his snickers enough to ask, “So you can’t tell us the details of the assignment, but how about you and Bulstrode? Stopped fighting yet?”

“We weren’t fighting, we were engaging in intelligent heated debate.”

“Uh huh.”

Hermione glared but continued; the need to talk to someone about this situation, this _thing_ was overwhelming. “We’re…better.”

Harry narrowed his eyes—a succinct Hermione was obviously hiding something. “Better.”

“Yes, better.” She cursed herself for flushing and Harry for being more observant than he should be. “What do you want me to say, that at least books are no longer being used as projectile weapons?”

“There was a book fight?” Ron asked a bit too excitedly for Hermione’s tastes.

She continued, ignoring the inane question, “We’re making headway with the project, or at least the basic theory’s sound now.” She picked at the seat cushion a while before mumbling, “Oh and we kissed.”

Harry’s brow crinkled in very obvious confusion, “Pardon me?”

Hermione sighed and decided to go for the more direct approach, “We kissed. Actually it was more like I kissed her.”

Ron’s face contorted into an expression of pure disgust at Hermione's clarification.

Harry was slightly better about it, but only just, “Willingly?”

“I need new friends.”

“Sounds like your well on your way with Bulstrode!”

“_Teaspoon_, Ronald. Emotional range of a _teaspoon_.”

“I’m not the one snogging Bulstrode.” He paused seeming to consider the situation, “_Bulstrode_? Really, Hermione?”

“She has a name!” Hermione exclaimed, feeling oddly protective of the other woman.

“Yes, but you’re _pretty_!”

Hermione was torn between glaring and blushing. Ron could be sweet, unfortunately at all the wrong times.

Harry intervened, “I think what Ron’s trying to say is that you have a…type.”

“Who’s to say she isn’t my type? She’s obviously intelligent, successful, we have productive conversation which is more than I can say for _some_ people I know,” directing a pointed look at Ron, “and she understands my dedication to work. Plus, she _is_ attractive, Ronald, that was an appalling statement. We don't all have such narrow tastes.”

Harry hummed noncommittally, obviously at a loss for more euphemisms, running his hand through his hair, the way he did when he was frustrated, his scar peeking out through the ruffled strands normally hiding it.

His _scar_.

“That’s it!” She exclaimed, jerking to her feet, she rushed to the floo grabbing some floo powder from the bowl on the mantle.

Ron stared at his best friend, confusion growing, “Hermione? What’s it?”

Hermione turned impatiently, her face alive with her sudden epiphany, “Harry’s scar!”

“My scar? What about it?” His hand moving to cover it up with his hair again.

The brunette huffed impatiently. “It’s the answer to the theory; it has to be what we’ve been missing!”

Ron’s frown deepened, “I don’t get it.”

“Well, of course _you_ don’t!”

She turned back to the fireplace and threw some floo powder in, called out Millicent’s home address and was gone but not before catching a much aggrieved, “Bloody know-it-all,” mutter from Ron.

**-x-**

“LOVE!”

Millicent looked up from her notes to the brunette who'd suddenly appeared in her flat.

“What?”

“LOVE!”

Something obviously had to be done about her wards, she was an Unspeakable for Salazar’s sake, she couldn’t afford letting insane mudb- muggleborns floo in haphazardly, or ever for that matter.

“Granger, what in Circe’s name are you blathering on about?”

“LOVE!”

Millicent was quickly coming to the end of her already very short tether; she’d thought the Gryffindor had more wit in that bushy head than she was showing.

“Yes, you’ve already said that, what about it?”

Blessedly, Hermione seemed to gather some semblance of articulation, “It’s the answer we’ve been looking for."

This was going nowhere fast.

“Alright, sit down and try to get your thoughts together into a sentence, if you can. I’ll get you some firewhiskey.”

Hermione huffed in annoyance but sat down, “I don’t need firewhiskey! I’ve just managed a breakthrough!”

“A breakthrough to insanity." She muttered, and then continued a little louder. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Oh, would you just listen to me?” Hermione snapped.

Millicent made a gesture with her hands as if indicating she’d been listening all along and Hermione was the inept one here.

Sparing a glare at the other woman, Hermione dove into her explanation.

“We’ve been looking for something to hold a counter-spell or shield together against the Killing Curse, something to connect the theories we’ve been applying, right?”

Millicent nodded impatiently, “Yes, yes. What’s this about love then?”

“Don’t you see? It’s what has to hold the basics of the spell together, the intention behind the wand movement!”

“I thought that the intention was to stop the Killing Curse not spread all manner of unholy Hufflepuff feelings all over the place.”

“Yes, but we’re working with more than a normal counter-spell, it’s not just absorbing or deflecting the magic, the arithmancy calculations for a Killing Curse show that you can’t do that. We need something that turns the intent of the curse on itself, or alternatively defeat its essence.”

Millicent sat back in her seat, “It’s an idea, but I thought we agreed that the only thing that can defeat a curse of this magnitude is it’s direct opposite—life—and we can’t create life, that's a basic law of magic.”

Hermione bit her lip, an obscene gesture in Millicent’s opinion, “You’re right,” she paused a moment, “Unless of course it doesn’t have to be its opposite.”

  
”Granger, we just said—“

  
“No, hear me out.” She gave a small smile in apology at the interruption, “Maybe it doesn’t have to be the opposite, just something bigger than the intent.”

“But the intent of the Killing Curse is to kill, its essence is death, it’s the only curse where that is the only intended result, that’s what makes it so unique. There is nothing bigger than death.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Hermione argued, smug as cat with the canary in its mouth.

Millicent bristled, “Really? Prove it.”

Hermione’s smug smile widened, “Well I’d love to drag Harry here, but you’ve already expressed an enormous amount of disdain for concentrated amounts of Gryffindors in your presence.”

“What does Potter have to do with anything?” Millicent asked a sneer on her face which quickly increased in disdain as she grasped Granger’s point. “You can’t mean…?”

Hermione all out grinned, “Exactly.”

Millicent closed her eyes and sighed long-sufferingly, “As if I hadn’t had enough exposure to you people.”

The brunette glared, but she was too excited to take any real offense. “Well it works doesn’t it?”

Dark blue eyes opened with a glare startling Hermione with their vibrancy, “It doesn’t _work_. We won’t know if any of this theory we’re cooking up works until we test it. You’ve still to convince me how Potter is going to help usl.”

“He’s not going to help us, more like his mother actually.” Hermione shook her head, “I can’t believe we hadn’t gone down this route before now, and with living proof in front of me everyday.”

“Granger, no one’s going to always have someone conveniently ready to die for them at a moment’s notice at all times. Potter got _lucky_.” Her tone expressing just what she thought of the Boy Who Lived Twice’s accomplishments. “Now clear up your theory and stop mumbling to yourself before I kick you out and get some actual work done.”

Now _that_ Hermione took offense to, “I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult about this! I’ve already explained everything.”

Holding in the undignified urge to pull at her hair, or at least the brunette’s hair- she had been wondering about its texture for a while, Millicent retorted, “Granger, I don’t quite see how you can call your apoplectic exclamations an explanation. I think I liked you better when you plagiarized whole texts in your responses.”

“You’re insufferable, you know.” A statement not a question.

“Cut the compliments and get to it, Granger, or you’re liable to end up molesting me again.”

Hermione flushed a deep red, “You didn’t seem to mind too much at the time!”

Millicent shrugged, “I was in shock; it’s what someone goes through after a traumatic experience.”

“You, you...” Hermione pointed a shaking finger at the other woman, her anger and embarrassment blocking her ability to speak.

“Yes, me. Do calm down Granger, you’re about to pop a vein and I do so hate cleaning blood out of my rug. Besides, I’m starting to see your point.”

Hermione’s anger deflated at Bulstrode’s agreement, though the embarrassment remained, her cheeks hot with it. She was wary of the sudden agreement though, "You're agreeing with me?"

“Oh don’t be so surprised. We’ll just use the theory behind the Patronus Charm.”

Confusion marred Granger’s brow, and Millicent had to clench her hands on her lap to stop herself from reaching out and smoothing the lines out.

“The Patronus?”

“As far as intent overriding intent goes, it’s the most powerful sort of magic in that section of theory.”

Understanding cleared Hermione’s confusion, “A happy memory dispels the despair that makes up the essence of a dementor,” she paused then continued slowly as the thoughts came together in her mind’s eye, “So we can use a memory of love to form the backbone of the spell while applying the protective properties essential to the Patronus Charm.”

“Yes, but instead of a freeform manifestation individual to the caster-“

“The counter-spell forms a shield that is the physical presence of the magic!” Hermione finished brown eyes alive with excitement and embarrassment momentarily forgotten.

“Exactly.”

They shared a grin born of mutual satisfaction and understanding worthy of the puzzle they might have just solved. Turns out they could work together after all, an annoying thought as it meant their superiors were correct about their compatibility.

Millicent did not approve. Needing to shift the atmosphere back to the familiar she stood up, “Wonderful. Now get out so I can write all of this down before we muddle it with the overthinking you’re sure to provide.”

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation, too elated to retort and taking the dismissal for what it was.

“Yes, well it’s late anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll of course make some notes; we can compare and start the necessary research tomorrow.”

It was Millicent’s turn to roll her eyes as the brunette stood up and walked to the floo. A nagging twist of her stomach alerted her to a missing element to this goodbye, and just before Granger finished out her address she made her decision, uncharacteristically spontaneous as it was.

Right before the floo activated Millicent moved forward and planted a chaste kiss on a startled Hermione's lips. “See?" she whispered, her voice heavy with lust and not a little smugness, "Shock.”

Hermione didn’t hear those last words as much as she read the other woman's lips. How could she over the whoosh of the floo and the sound of blood rushing to her head?

 

-


End file.
